


left out or unsure

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Patton is the best, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: The others don't want him around, but he can't go back.





	left out or unsure

Virgil can't stop pacing his little area of the mind palace, feeling like a caged animal. Panic claws at his throat, making his breathing too fast and too harsh. His fingernails bite into his palms, digging into his skin as his mind whirls, faster and faster.

They don't want him around. They don't need him. _Thomas_ doesn't need him. That much is obvious. He's not stupid, he knows when he's unwanted. All they do is put him down, ignore him, tear down any contribution he tries to make.

Sure, he's had moments of kinship with Patton and Logan, but Roman always ruins it. ~~Or maybe it's just him.~~ Roman _hates_ him, and all Virgil can think is that if it's going to be that way, the feeling is mutual.

He swallows, tears burning his eyes. He doesn't care. He's fine. _Don't lie to yourself, Virgil._ He'll just...duck out. ~~Die.~~ But sides can't die, so of course, he can't be that lucky. Still. Thomas doesn't need him. Thomas will do better without him.

He shoves his hoodie sleeves up, counting the reddened lines that criss-cross his skin like a fucked up game of tic tac toe. What's a few more? With just a thought, his razor blade lies in the palm of his hand. He's not great at conjuring stuff up, but he can conjure _this_.

He rests the sharp edge against his skin, slowly drawing it across when he hears voices. Not just any voice. _Thomas's_ voice. The razor blade drops to the floor, winking out before it touches the ground, and he _appears_ before he can blink, flashing into being to a chorus of frightened screams.

"What are you all doing in my room?" Virgil demands and tries to ignore how much his wrist is stinging. He's glad his hoodie is black. And absorbent.

"Anxiety!" Thomas chirps. Virgil notices his pants are on backwards and tries not to show his confusion. "Oh my goodness, I am so happy to see you, that's weird!"

"You literally all just screamed in unison upon seeing me," Virgil says sourly.

"Sorry," Logan says, and it's hard to hear the rest of his statement through the buzzing in his ears. Did Logan just... _apologize_?

But it's more than that, and he doesn't understand how. He doesn't understand why everyone else came to _his room_ to find him, to help Thomas, to help _him_. Even _Roman_ and Virgil has to admit, it feels _good_ to hear Roman say that. It's baffling, but it sparks something bright and warm in his middle and perhaps that's why he stands there, in Thomas's living room, fidgeting with his hoodie strings, as he admits his name is Virgil.

"I think that's an awesome name," Thomas states, and Virgil flushes bright red.

"Call me Virge," he mumbles. He sinks down in a flurry of embarrassment, only to find Patton standing in his room.

"Patton?" Virgil asks in surprise.

"Oh!" Patton jumps, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "Sorry, kiddo, the spiders startled me."

"They're just curtains," Virgil says. "Why are you here?"

"I made you something," Patton says, handing him a card. At the sight of the letters I-L-Y spelled out, Virgil's chest tightens.

"Uh, thanks," Virgil says, already mentally planning the best spot to put it. Not that he _wanted_ to put it in a place of honor or anything.

"Also, kiddo?" Patton says. Virgil looks up just as Patton snaps his fingers and a first aid kit falls into his hands. "I saw you bleeding before we ducked out of here the first time."

"What?" Virgil panics, his breath coming in short, tight wheezes. Patton gently pushes him down to take a seat on his bed.

"Like you told Thomas, Virgil, four breaths in," Patton says calmly, demonstrating the breathing exercise over and over. "It's okay, I'm not mad at you. No one else noticed."

"Are- are you sure?" Virgil mutters.

"Well, Roman hasn't broken the door down yet," Patton points out. Virgil laughs.

"Sounds like something Princey would do," he says. "Uh..."

"Roll up your sleeve?" Patton requests. He makes a small, hurt sound when he sees the remnants of old wounds, but says nothing, just carefully cleans it all up and bandages it with Nightmare Before Christmas-themed band-aids.

"Thanks," Virgil mumbles, his face on fire. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Patton says, smiling warmly at him. "I'm always here for you. Any time of day or night. I'll gladly watch Disney with you or bake cookies or just listen, kiddo. Whatever you need."

"Th-thanks," Virgil stammers. As Patton sinks back into the common area, Virgil turns around.

It doesn't even feel like his old room anymore.

It feels like belonging.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it's kind of choppy towards the end but also i wasn't gonna repeat the video verbatim :p


End file.
